


When the World Gets Too Heavy

by consideritalljoy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ? I guess?, Catharsis, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, also yeah the title's from P!atD, i wrote this for the catharsis so the triggery stuff is as glossed over as i could make it, if you need more information before you can read leave a comment, intentionally vague details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consideritalljoy/pseuds/consideritalljoy
Summary: Obi-Wan pursed his lips, breathed, and then just… started talking. “I hate seeing you upset. I hate knowing why. I hate that any of this happened, and I’m aware that neither of us could have prevented it, and I’m terribly sorry for that poor Twi’lek girl, but I’m—Force, this sounds selfish to say—I’m more sorry for you.”
Kudos: 37





	When the World Gets Too Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the tags, there's 2 implied/referenced suicide attempts in this piece, both of which are stopped. The details are exceptionally fuzzy, as the goal of this piece was the resulting dialogue. That said, if you want to read this but are afraid it might be triggering, leave a comment, and I can give you more information beforehand.

The life of a Jedi involved being witness to myriad horrors. This was a grim fact all Jedi learned, at some age, to accept. 

There were some horrors, however, that no sentient being could reasonably be expected to bear up under, even with the aid of the Force. Often, of course, which those were had to do with previous experiences—what the mind healers called trauma. And, try as one might, it was difficult to prevent ever seeing such things, especially when so few people were ever aware of which horrors were on the list. 

For instance, Obi-Wan was the only being who was aware that this was one of Anakin’s. 

He held back the wince for the sake of the young Twi’lek girl in question—Force knew he didn’t want to make her situation any worse. In his peripheral only, he scanned his former padawan for the distress he could already feel in waves through the Force. Anakin had it under control, at least for the time being. 

Obi-Wan pushed as much calm as he could through their bond, and turned his attention back to the Twi’lek. 

She needed medical attention, and fast. 

“Anakin, comm Kix. Hurry.”

Wordlessly, Anakin stepped back and spoke quietly into the commlink. Obi-Wan spent the minutes leading up to the medic’s arrival checking the Twi’lek’s erratic, soft pulse and projecting as much comfort as he could muster into her mind. 

It was really more a job for Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan managed. 

When the clones arrived and all were safely back on the Resolute, and Kix reported she’d make a full recovery, Obi-Wan was free to attend to other matters. 

“Anakin?” he called, reaching out with the Force to sense his location, projecting his question into their bond. 

Anakin didn’t appear, but instead spoke back through the Force. _I really don’t need another lecture on releasing emotions into the Force._

 _That wasn’t my plan._ Anakin didn’t respond, but the interaction had been enough for Obi-Wan to find the origin of his Force signature. The bowels of the ship—to be precise, the engine room. 

Obi-Wan smiled ruefully. Some things, it seemed, would never change. 

When he arrived at the engine room, he found Anakin on his back underneath some piece of machinery that Obi-Wan couldn’t tell apart from any other. As he entered, he locked the door.

“Now’s not a good time, Obi-Wan,” Anakin growled through gritted teeth. 

“Anakin,” he said softly. 

“I said now’s not a good time.”

Obi-Wan sat down next to Anakin’s legs. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Anakin said flatly. 

“You know.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

“I’m not apologizing. I’m just… sorry.” He winced. Qui-Gon was so much better at this. 

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Anakin shot back. 

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, breathed, and then just… started talking. “I hate seeing you upset. I hate knowing why. I hate that any of this happened, and I’m aware that neither of us could have prevented it, and I’m terribly sorry for that poor Twi’lek girl, but I’m—Force, this sounds selfish to say—I’m more sorry for you.”

Anakin stopped his tinkering at that. After a few seconds, he slid back out from underneath the machine, looking up like he’d thought Obi-Wan was still standing, then adjusting his neck to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. 

Force, they always were so blue when he was crying. 

“It was years ago now,” Anakin choked out. “I thought it was behind me. I’m a kriffing Jedi Knight now, and this shouldn’t be bothering me.”

“Suicide is something that stays with a person, I think. And I know I haven’t your experience. I do know, however, that it’s something that stays with me, too. And that must only intensify when you’re the one who-” His voice caught in his throat. “Well.”

The whispered rasp that finally came from Anakin was so soft Obi-Wan strained to hear it. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, Anakin, for what?”

“Making you deal with it back then.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t-” He checked his volume. “Don’t say that. You were my padawan, and anyway, I wanted to. You’re not my padawan anymore, and I still want to help you. I always want to help you.”

Anakin finally stopped holding all that water in his eyes. Watching him sob tore at Obi-Wan’s chest, as it always did, but he didn’t release that pain into the Force. He kept all of it, and let all of it morph into what he called compassion, but what he knew was more like love. 

Anakin still hadn’t gotten up, but that really wasn’t going to stop Obi-Wan. Slowly, waiting for Anakin to resist if he chose to, Obi-Wan slid one arm under Anakin’s back and wrapped the other around his chest. It only took a few seconds for Anakin to reposition himself in order to throw his arms around Obi-Wan and bury his face in his robes, just like when he was a youngling. 

“You aren’t alone just because you’re a knight now, you know,” Obi-Wan told him, voice cracking. “I’m still with you. Even when not physically, I’m with you.”

Anakin nodded, fingers clawing at Obi-Wan’s back. He didn’t answer, but the waves of relief Obi-Wan felt rolling off him were all the response he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I had other fic plans, but this one just kind of needed to be written last night, so here it is. Most of my fic are things I personally headcanon; this isn't one of those. Though I suppose it does kind of fit, and is certainly canon compliant. Anakin at say, 15, pressure from being the chosen one, is dealing with puberty, doesn't have Padme as an emotional outlet yet, hasn't honed his skills to the point where he feels confident, just really misses his mom... he's known to have a reckless streak. I could easily see it. 
> 
> But anyway. Wrote this because of some reasons, thought it might be good catharsis for someone out there, decided to post it, here it is.


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